


Jane Foster and the Mischievous Matchmaker

by Vashka



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Awesome Frigga, F/M, Jane Foster Loves Science, Loki Does What He Wants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 10:38:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5740537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vashka/pseuds/Vashka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane, Science Goddess, needs some balance in her life. However, the dating scene is a cesspool. The most prestigious matchmaker in the city, Mrs. Odinson, takes on her case and she’s matched up with a mysterious man. Jane’s life is certainly never the same. All-human AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jane Foster and the Mischievous Matchmaker

Every so often, the course of one’s life changes in a single moment. Looking back, Jane pinpointed her turning point to one long weekend late in August. 

 

“… Jane…. Jane… JANE! Are you alive?” 

 

Jane cracked open her eyes, squinting at the harsh early morning light that suddenly assaulted her eyes. 

 

“Seriously, Jane. Are you wearing the same clothes that you were wearing three days ago? Please tell me you went home and didn’t stay in the lab the whole time I was gone.” 

 

As usual – all Darcy’s fault. “Darrrrcy,” Jane croaked, “Please. I just got to sleep a few hours ago.” 

 

She closed her eyes again and heard her assistant stomping through the lab, muttering to herself and tidying up the remnants of a three-day Science bender. 

 

“Jane! Oh my God, did you actually eat this leftover chili? We made it three weeks ago!” Dishes clattered in the sink as Darcy cleaned up the admittedly filthy kitchenette. “And what the hell did you do to the filing system?” 

 

After about ten more minutes of puttering, Darcy sighed and sat down on the edge of the ancient cough Jane was currently resting on. “Please tell me all of this punishment was worth it?” 

 

Jane opened one eye and grinned. 

 

Darcy didn’t look impressed. “Okay, mad genius. Just remember that if you had died and I wasn’t here, no one would have found your decomposing corpse until it started to smell. Remember that guy I set you up to meet on Friday? Did you bail on him too?” 

 

Jane frowned. “Guy?”

 

“I can’t believe you stood up Richard! He’s like the nicest guy ever,” Darcy scolded. She then heaved a deep sigh and leaned back into the couch. “You got distracted by some neutrino or something and then forgot to eat, sleep or bathe for three days. Am I right?” 

 

Jane at least had the decency to feel a bit ashamed, and gestured to the wall of white boards now covered with barely legible math. “It was a breakthrough in my Einstein-Rosen Bridge calculations.” 

 

“I do worry about you, Jane. It’s good to work hard, but you’re going to burn out working at this pace with no balance to your life. I wanted you to go out with Richard and have a good time, decompress and maybe have a little _fun_ for once.” 

 

Jane wanted to say that differential equations were sort of fun, in a nerdy sort of way, but seeing Darcy’s face she didn’t think that would go over well so kept her mouth shut. 

 

Darcy pushed up her glasses and scanned the room. “It is going to take me at least four or five hours to get this put back together. Go home, clean yourself up, take a nap and for Gods’ sake put on some new clothes. You’re starting to look like the _Walking Dead._ ” 

 

Jane nodded and heaved herself off of the sagging couch, threw on her black hoodie and pulled on her boots. She noticed lots of strange looks on the short walk home to her apartment from the University, but didn’t think much of it as her brain started to tease apart the complex calculations for the millionth time that weekend. 

 

Growling a little in frustration, she didn’t notice a blonde co-ed walk across the street to avoid her path. _Maybe I do need a little downtime. I’m just going around in circles with this project…_

 

Finally making it to her cozy apartment, Jane threw her hoodie and her bag on the couch and headed for her bedroom. Stripping and putting all of her clothes in the laundry, she stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As she rummaged in her cabinet for her toothpaste, she glimpsed herself in the mirror and dropped her toothbrush in shock. 

 

_Holy… no wonder Darcy was worried._

 

Jane took a look at herself. A really, really good look. Her dark eyes were bloodshot lined with deep dark circles. Her hair was tangled and wild. Her skin sallow, pale. Her face and frame looked gaunt, like she had lost weight. She was twenty seven, highly successful, and relatively attractive, and now looked like absolute, utter shit. Like a zombie from the apocalypse bad. 

 

Cringing, she stepped into the shower and let the scalding water work its healing magic. _Maybe Darcy is right. Maybe I should get out more._

 

 _Maybe,_ she thought as the hot water continued to beat her skin into a bright red, _I really should start dating again._

 

000

 

One afternoon a few weeks later, Jane was puttering around the lab. There was really nothing to do. The computers were crunching her latest data, the spectrometer was recalibrating, and she was waiting for the new parts to ship from Japan to upgrade her telescopes. So she was let tidying the desk and equipment and rearranging the bookshelves. 

 

“Hey, boss-lady,” Darcy said from the couch, “Stop cleaning. You’re making me dizzy with all of your acrobatics. Besides, I’m supposed to do that.” 

 

Jane huffed and blew some hair out of her face, putting down the duster. “Fine. Want some coffee?” 

 

“Sure. I never turn down caffeine.” 

 

Jane wandered to the corner of the lab where they kept a mini-fridge and small coffee maker. “Do you want Folgers or the good stuff?” 

 

“The Kona blend,” Darcy said, “Just to remind you about that trip to Hawaii you promised me.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jane said as she scooped out the grounds, “Do you know how competitive the slots are for telescope time at Mauna Loa?” 

 

Darcy just waved her hand in a grand imperious gesture as she heaved herself off of the couch. “I’m sure that your science is way cooler than whoever else wants it. Point me in the direction of the application and I’ll make sure we get in.” 

 

“Sure, go for it,” Jane said with a smile, as she rummaged around the small kitchenette for clean mugs, handing one to Darcy, “couldn’t hurt.” 

 

Darcy nodded and poured herself a large mug. She stirred in a large amount of thin-mint flavored creamer, turning the coffee almost white. She then proceeded to dump in 3 packets of sugar and stirred vigorously. 

 

Jane shuddered as she sipped her black brew. “I still don’t see how you can drink coffee like that.” 

 

“It’s my future diabetes,” Darcy said with a shrug, taking a long swig, “So how goes the man hunt?” 

 

Jane groaned and flopped herself in her desk chair. “It’s awful. It can’t be this hard to find a reasonably attractive, intelligent man.” 

 

Darcy raised a brow and sipped her coffee with a loud slurp. “That depends.” 

 

“On what?” 

 

“Your standards, of course,” Darcy said, seating herself in the chair opposite Jane. “I agree the speed dating thing and the clubbing incident were disasters, but I thought that Erik’s friend Don seemed like something interesting. And he was a doctor. Although, because only having one doctorate by twenty five is slow compared to you, compared to the rest of the species, you’ll find him to be one of the smarter examples. Unfortunately.” 

 

Jane ran a frustrated hand through her hair and frowned. “Don was smart enough. However, he lacked any interest in anything other than orthopedic surgery.” She fiddled with a cheap plastic coffee stirrer as she spun around in her desk chair idly. “I don’t need a Tony Stark, Darcy, I just want someone who… who…” 

 

“Who can keep up with you when you go off on one of you cosmic mumbo jumbo rants.” 

 

Jane barked a laugh. “Have you learned anything working here all of these years?” 

 

Darcy shrugged and started fiddling with her phone. Jane, a little irritated and curious at her inattention, said, “What are you looking at?”

 

“Just solving all of your problems. I’ll take that raise now,” Darcy said as she shoved her phone in Jane’s face. 

 

“What?” Jane blinked a little and squinted at the tiny screen, just barely making out the details of the tasteful website. “A matchmaker?” 

 

“Yup,” Darcy said, as she got up and sauntered back to the coffeemaker, draining the small carafe into her cup, “the best in the tri-state area apparently. Yo, we need more beans. And Kahlua.” 

 

“Put it on the list,” Jane said absently. She frowned as scrolled through the website. When she got to the fee portion, her brows went up sharply, and she let out a low whistle. “I don’t have the money for this!” 

 

“But see here,” Darcy pointed to the screen, “she takes ‘interesting cases!’” 

 

Jane stared at her for a moment, and then started laughing. 

 

Darcy just smiled and grinned. “Just you wait boss-lady, when I’m done with you, she will take your case - for free!” 

 

000

 

Jane had to give Darcy credit, when she was motivated, she could work miracles. Within two weeks, an application was filled out and an invite to meet this elite matchmaker was in Jane’s email inbox. _Too bad she’s not this motivated by science. Or her job. Or anything that she’s supposed to do in the lab…_

 

As she waited in the posh reception area of the office for her appointment with the matchmaker, she studied the multiple pictures on the wall, all of happy couples. Former clients, she supposed. 

 

Jane had done some research on this Mrs. Odinson before applying and theoretically wasting her money on her services. She was advertised as the most successful matchmaker in the city, and it seemed she actually was. It was a little difficult finding reliable data on a matchmaker, but taking some numbers she found posted on the website and on social media and running them through statistical analysis, Jane found that Mrs. Odinson had 91.3 percent of her matches end in an established relationship, and above 85 percent end in marriage. Less than five percent of those ended in divorce, but as that was far less than the national average, Jane was satisfied that as far as matchmaking went, this lady was probably the best she could get. If she could get her. 

 

Fabulous statistics aside, Mrs. Odinson was rumored to be very choosy about her clients. She only took those who were seriously interested in a committed relationship and also via selection criteria that mystified the anxious single public. Rich, mundane, famous, obscure – she seemed to choose her clients on a whim. 

 

As the most serious relationship Jane had had for the past five years was with cold, hard Science, she paused and assessed her real feelings before the meeting. Was she truly ready for that kind of relationship? The real, lasting kind? The kind her parents had? 

 

As with all things, Jane looked the issue from all angles. While she was scared of commitment as the next person, she had enough objectivity to realize that she was lonely. While evenings reading the Journal of Astrophysics and eating pop-tarts were fine during grad school, it certainly did not make for a complete and well rounded life. 

 

So Jane was committed. As crazy as it was, she was sworn to see this through to the end. Whatever that may be. 

 

“Jane Foster?” a woman said in a crisp English accent. 

 

“Yes?” Jane was startled out of her thoughts and looked at the model perfect woman staring sternly at her. “Oh I’m sorry! I was just daydreaming. Yes, I’m Jane Foster.”

 

The dark haired woman seemed to soften a touch and shot her a stunning smile, her eyes crinkling a little. “Mrs. Odinson will see you now.” 

 

Jane smoothed her suddenly sweaty palms on her new knee length plum-colored couture dress, and quickly checked the mirror to see if her makeup had accidentally smeared while she was waiting. 

 

“You look lovely,” the assistant said. 

 

“Um, thanks,” said Jane, “I don’t usually wear a lot of makeup on a regular basis and I wanted to make sure I didn’t have lipstick on my teeth or something equally embarrassing like that.” 

 

The assistant’s grin widened. “Your makeup looks great, and call me Sif,” she gestured down a hallway, “This way.” 

 

They started down a long, long hallway, Jane carefully walking in her three-inch high heels. Never feeling comfortable in these sorts of situations, Jane attempted some conversation to lessen the painful silence. “So, uh, do you like working here?” 

 

Internally she winced. _Fabulous, Jane, great conversational volley there._

 

Sif shrugged, either not noticing, or more likely, politely ignoring Jane’s discomfort. “It’s a family business. I help out when my mother-in-law needs someone to fill in.” 

 

“Ah!” Jane lit up at the new information. “You married into Mrs. Odinson’s family? When did you get married?” 

 

Sif laughed a little. “I’ve known Mrs. Odinson and her sons since I was small. In fact, you could possibly say Thor and I were one of her first matchmaking projects. Now,” she gestured to a door, “here we are. Don’t be nervous.” 

 

Sif knocked lightly on the door. “Frigga? Your next appointment is here.” 

 

A soft, muffled voice was heard from inside the room. “Thank you dear, let them in.” 

 

Soundlessly, the door opened and Jane stepped into the office. It was a large space, and as a corner office, it had a panoramic view of the city and the bay beyond. The decor somehow achieved the balance between sleek and modern, but still cozy and comfortable. The woman herself was beautiful, blonde and blue eyed. She was obviously middle aged but maturing so well she could be anywhere from forty to sixty years old. Her gorgeous suit alone probably cost more than Jane’s laptop back at the lab and Jane didn’t even want to think about what those beautiful shoes were worth. 

 

She stood as Jane entered and Jane stepped forward carefully on her high heels to greet her. “Mrs. Odinson, it is a pleasure to meet you.” 

 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Mrs. Odinson said in a soft English-accented voice, “I admit your application intrigued me more than most. Tell me about yourself.” She gestured to a large red chair across from her large glass and wood desk. 

 

Jane sat down, and her petite frame engulfed by the soft cushions. “Well, um…” 

 

“And don’t worry about being modest, I have little use for it.” Mrs. Odinson uncapped her pen and opened a notebook. Jane was silent and still unsure. 

 

“How about you start at the beginning, dear?” 

 

At those words, Jane’s courage returned, and she lost her trepidation of the crazy situation and possibly sabotaging her romantic life forever, and became the woman who worked in and thrived in a highly competitive masculine world. 

 

She took a deep breath and began, “Well, I guess you could say I had an unconventional childhood. My parents were academics. My mother is a Shakespearean scholar, currently teaching at Cambridge. My father was an astrophysics professor. I grew up all over the United States as they went from position to position; living on various universities. I adored it. I graduated from high school at fourteen. I went to college at M.I.T. where I studied physics, and I graduated at 17. My father lived to see me graduate, but died in a car accident shortly afterwards.” 

 

After pausing for a moment and swallowing hard, Jane pressed on, “After my father’s death, my mother moved to England and I went with her, getting my first PhD in quantum physics at 20 from Cambridge. Then, I went back to the States to study with my father’s friend Erik Selvig at Culver University where I received my second PhD in astrophysics at 24. Currently I have my own lab at Culver with my own funding where I study planetary formation as well as wormhole theory.” 

 

Mrs. Odinson was watching her closely and put her pen down on her desk, and steepled her fingers. “Impressive. Very impressive. However, I would like to know more about _you._ ” 

 

“Um, like my hobbies?” _And just like that, back to awkward,_ Jane thought, cringing.

 

Frigga smiled gently, but the gleam in her eyes was predatory. “Yes. I would like you to tell me _everything._ ” 

 

000

 

Jane staggered out of the interview, sweaty and somewhat disheveled. Sif immediately appeared at her elbow and handed her a tall red-colored drink. 

 

Taking a large gulp, Jane immediately choked. “Does this… does this have alcohol in it?” 

 

Sif raised a perfectly sculpted brow; “Vodka.” 

 

“Oh,” Jane looked at the clock reading eleven twenty-five AM, and shrugged before chugging the rest down, “just asking.” 

 

She licked her lips and closed her eyes while savoring the smooth burn down her throat and the tart freshness of cranberry. “That was just a hair less difficult than my dissertation defense,” Jane opened her eyes and asked, “Is she always that intense?” 

 

Sif nodded. “It’s a family trait. Unfortunately,” she handed Jane her jacket, “Thank you for your time, Dr. Foster.” 

 

“Please calls me Jane,” Jane said as she battled with her scarf. Finally getting it settled over her head, she called out, “Goodbye!” 

 

Smiling and waving, she walked out of the office. _I’m sure I’ll never see you again._

 

000

 

Sif was still smiling and hour later when she delivered Frigga her tea. 

 

Mrs. Odinson was sitting quietly, hands folded, staring out her large window at the hustle and bustle of the city gleaming in the afternoon light. 

 

“So Sif, what did you think of our guest?” 

 

Sif was silent as she sat and poured the hot water into the waiting antique Sevres porcelain. She thought about her answer as she added a dash of milk to Frigga’s cup. After a sip of her own strong black tea, she said, “I like her.” 

 

Mrs. Odinson took a sip of her own tea as she prepared a plate of small sandwiches for herself. “You’ve never said that before.” 

 

“Because I’ve never really meant it before.”

 

Mrs. Odinson laughed. “That’s cruel of you.” 

 

Sif shrugged one shoulder and selected a biscuit from the tray. 

 

“I was thinking of her for… the special case.” 

 

Sif’s eyes snapped to the older woman’s. “Now that’s cruel of _you._ ” 

 

Mrs. Odinson just smiled and took another sip of tea. 

 

000

 

A week later, Jane was sitting in her lab fiddling with the insides of a spectrometer that was malfunctioning for the fourth time. The _Star Wars_ theme song started playing, and Jane hummed along absently as she soldered a loose component. _This stupid thing just won’t stay put… Damn. I just need a new one. Too bad it would suck up a quarter of my grant money._

 

“… Jane… JANE!”

 

“Hm?” Jane said as she focused on the superheated metal. 

 

“Dude, isn’t that your phone that keeps ringing?” 

 

Jane finally looked up from her work and looked at Darcy. “My phone?” She carefully put down her soldering iron and pushed up her protective glasses. The _Star Wars_ theme cheerily hummed somewhere in the vicinity of her desk. “Oh. Oh!” 

 

Tearing off her thick dirty gloves, she ran for her desk and fumbled with the buttons. “Hello?”

 

“Hello, Jane? This is Sif from Frigga Odinson’s office.” Sif’s voice was muffled, as if she was going through a long tunnel. Her English accent also seemed to be thicker than it was back in the office for some reason. 

 

“Oh! Hello, Sif. How are you?” 

 

“Well, Jane,” Sif said, speaking very quickly, “you have intrigued Mrs. Odinson enough that she wants to take your case. She actually thinks you would be quite compatible with…” 

 

There was a strong burst of static and Sif’s already muffled voice became even more difficult to hear. “Sif? I think you’re breaking up.” 

 

Sif broke in with a few more heavily accented words. “Excited… date… arranged… sixth street…” 

 

“Sif!” Jane shouted her other hand plugging her ear as if that would help with the cell reception, “I can’t hear you at all!” 

 

Sif muttered something that could have been a name, and then, more clearly said, “I’ll send you all of the details via email.” 

 

Jane relaxed a little. “OK. Um, what was his name again? I didn’t quite catch it.” 

 

There was another burst of static, and Jane could barely make out something that resembled a name. Luka Loafson? What kind of a name was that? Before she could ask, Sif said, “I’ll send you details later today. Have a lovely day. Oh, and make sure you dress well – black tie required!” 

 

After Sif hung up, Jane stared at the phone, blinking. Bemused, she put down the phone, pulled her gloves back on and pushed her goggles back down over her eyes. She looked at Darcy, who was sitting at her desk absorbed in her phone. 

 

“Darcy, do you think the dress I wore to the Astronomer’s Awards banquet three years ago counts as black tie?” 

 

Darcy just stared at her over the rims of her glasses, her dark eyes full of pity. “Good Lord Jane. You are hopeless, aren’t you?”

 

000

 

So it was that a week later Jane was glammed up in yet another new dress. This time it was a slinky black number that Jane actually liked. It had some elegant beading on the bodice that made her look like she had more going on in the bosom department than she actually did, but the coup de gras was that it was backless all the way to the dip of her lumbar spine. It was the first backless dress Jane had ever worn, but Darcy assured her that she could pull it off, and from the looks she had gotten Jane was glad that she allowed the intern to convince her to buy it.

 

However, it would all be for nothing if the guy never showed. 

 

She sat at the table and adjusted the napkin for the fifth time. _What am I doing here? I’m giving this jerk five more minutes and then I am leaving. I don’t care how busy he is._

 

Sipping her outrageously expensive wine, she discreetly scouted the restaurant for her absent date. The place was classy, much, much more than her usual cozy coffee shop hangouts. The crystal was sparkling and feather light, the staff very well put together and almost silent in the way they wafted by to refill her drink. There were no other patrons in this section of the restaurant, a lovely French bistro tucked into the breast of downtown. She was seated in a private dining area, waiting and wondering about the man she was supposedly meeting. 

 

She had thought they were going to send her a summary, or at least a picture of the guy, but it seemed that the office must have forgotten to do so. _If I had caught his name, maybe I could have googled him and maybe gotten his picture like Darcy had wanted._

 

Darcy had actually been pretty pissed that she hadn’t caught her date’s name, because she couldn’t ‘do her research to make sure they hadn’t set her up with some Patrick Bateman super psycho.’ At the time, Jane had reassured her that Mrs. Odinson knew what she was doing, but now she was wondering if she should have called back to confirm. 

 

 _Wow, this wine is really good._ She held the glass to the light and squinted at the perfect red. _I’ll bet that the cost of this bottle would buy me a new telescope lens. How wasteful._ Jane closed her eyes as she took another deep sip, savoring the smooth tannins. _But delicious. I’ll never be a connoisseur but it does taste much better than the box wine Darcy keeps in the lab…_

 

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

 

Jane’s eyes flew open and she inhaled sharply in shock, aspirating the expensive wine into her trachea and setting off a coughing fit. A handkerchief appeared in front of her watering eyes and she grabbed it as her spasm subsided. When she stopped gasping for air, she looked up and got her first look at what she presumed was her date. 

 

Tall… handsome… and, oh Hell. 

 

He was freaking perfect. 

 

He wasn’t classically handsome, per se. He was aristocratic, arresting, compelling. His cheekbones and jaw line were carved out of marble, his nose lean and thin. His lips weren’t full and lush, but thin and wide. He was very pale as if she spent a great deal of time indoors but combined with his long pitch black hair combined with a trim, very, very fit body he made a striking first impression. 

 

Then he opened his mouth. 

 

In a condescending upper class English drawl, he said, “What an interesting display. Are you quite alright?” 

 

She had to crank her neck a ridiculous amount to look him straight in the eyes from her sitting position. She couldn’t quite tell their color, but she didn’t care. Her embarrassment combined with the innate awkwardness of a first date, adding to his lateness and now his foul attitude was more than she could take. “I am now, no thanks to you. I’m assuming you’re my date, Luka what’s-his-name. From how you’re dressed and how you present yourself I assume you are someone who should theoretically impress me. I don’t care. I’ve been waiting for a half hour, I’m hungry, my feet hurt, and while this wine is delicious I can’t help but feel like I should be buying a new spectrometer for my lab with every sip.” 

 

She took a deep breath and stood up, feeling a little dizzy. _Whew I must have had, a little more wine than I thought. Darcy was right, I am a lightweight._

 

Raising her chin and putting on her most superior expression usually used to cow pigheaded academics, she said firmly, “Good evening, sir,” and stood up to march off. 

 

It was a magnificent idea, in theory. 

 

In a spectacular huff, she tossed her head a little and turned around to give him a look at the exposed back of her dress. Just to let him see what he was missing. Grabbing her wrap and her purse, she attempted to throw the thick black fabric over her shoulders as she stormed out. However, one of the three-inch heels Darcy insisted upon caught in the obscenely thick carpeting as she was fussing with her wrap, and Jane felt herself topple. 

 

Throwing out her arms and closing her eyes, she braced for impact. _Fabulous Jane. A klutz attack is just the icing this shit-cake of an evening needs._

 

Feeling a sharp jerk and her momentum suddenly arrest without any impact, Jane hesitantly opened her eyes. 

 

 _Green, his eyes are green,_ she thought as she stared, helpless, the man’s pale, lean face a hairsbreadth from her own. 

 

They were motionless. She could feel his heat; feel his breath upon her lips and his large hands on her body. Her admittedly already slightly intoxicated brain was drowning in his rich scent, a combination of fresh pine, expensive leather and man. She felt a large cool hand slowly inch up her naked back from lumbar spine to shoulder blades as he gently lowered her to the ground and a shudder frissioned up from her toes to her heated cheeks. 

 

“Are you all right?” They were the same words as before, but the intonation, the expression on his face made them feel like they were said in a different language. 

 

“Yes,” Jane said, licking her lips. She noted his eyes travel to them instantly and linger, and she felt her face flame. 

 

“Um,” she said, wishing for the millionth time she weren’t so awkward,” Thanks. For catching me.” 

 

The man smiled, and it completely transformed his face from lean and somewhat menacing to playful and almost… affectionate? Jane blinked and the look was gone, but the mischievous manner remained. 

 

“Think nothing of it. It would be a shame to ruin such a wonderful exit with an unfortunate spill, and a travesty to damage such a lovely ensemble.” 

 

Slowly, grudgingly, he removed his hand from her bare back and helped her to her feet, his large hands engulfing her thin wrists and his tall frame cocooning her for a brief moment. Pulling her up, he took his sweet time to steady her as he rewrapped her shoulders and retrieved her purse.

 

As he handed it to her, he quirked a smile and touched her wrist, sliding his long cool fingers to her rapid pulse, “I apologize.” 

 

Jane tilted her head to the side, sending a fall of brown hair sliding down her bare shoulder. “Do go on.”

 

In a languid motion, his clever fingers stroked over the thin skin on the inside of her wrist, sending little shivers up her arm and through her body like the little bubbles in a champagne flute, making her already wine-addled brain a little fuzzier. 

 

 _Damn man,_ she griped internally, _he knows exactly what he is doing. I am so going to regret this later._ “All right. I’ll give you one more chance. Better make it count.” 

 

Another firm stroke on her radial pulse sent another one of those sparks directly to her core, but that was nothing compared to the sensory overload that happened when the man truly smiled for the first time. 

 

“Oh, I will. I’m Loki.”

 

“I’m Jane.” _Yup. Totally going to regret this._

 

000

 

It may have been the explosive start, Loki’s charismatic charm, or a combination of both, but after all of the initial unpleasantness this was the least awkward Jane had felt on a date, well, ever. 

 

“Please… please have mercy,” Jane snorted into her napkin in between bouts of laughter. 

 

Loki’s eyes gleamed as he leaned back in his chair, loosening his tie with a slow, sinuous motion. “Why have mercy, my dear Dr. Foster, when the torture is so satisfying?” 

 

Jane rolled her eyes. “I’ve told you to call me Jane. And there is no possible way that story is true. Your brother and his friends cannot possibly be that daft.” 

 

“That is where you are quite wrong, Jane,” Loki grinned and took another sip of his wine, “They have been providing me entertainment for decades.” 

 

“But a two-hundred and fifteen pound man in a dress? I can’t imagine how he thought that would be convincing.” 

 

“Not one of my brother’s finest moments, I’ll grant you.” 

 

Jane snickered and looked around the empty room for some service. “My stomach is about to digest itself, I’m so hungry. I wonder where the food is?”

 

Loki had the grace to look a bit chagrined. “I apologize; they were instructed to wait for my arrival to bring out food. I certainly didn’t expect to be so late.” A flurry of nearly silent staff suddenly surrounded them, carrying many small plates that made Jane’s mouth water alarmingly. “Ah. Here it is now.”

 

Jane’s eyes widened at the amount of food on the table. “What is all of this?” 

 

“This restaurant does French food done in the Tapas style- many small plates of everything,” Loki said when the servers were finished, “May I suggest you start with the beef on your right?” 

 

Jane shrugged one shoulder and placed a few slices of the heavenly scented beef on her dish and drizzled the reddish sauce from the serving plate onto it and then eagerly ate a slice. The warm, soft beef almost melted in her mouth, the sauce was tangy and slightly cheesy, and Jane groaned and closed her eyes in ecstasy. “Oh my God. Wow, you weren’t kidding. But maybe it tastes so good because I am so hungry,” She ate a second bite and groaned again. “Nope. Still the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

 

Lifting the serving plate of beef and placing it in front of her, she grinned. “I claim this one in the name of Jane Foster.”

 

Loki watched her display with hooded eyes. “Who am I to get between a woman and her food?” 

 

Once Jane was slightly less hypoglycemic, she remembered she knew next to nothing about the man seated across from her except:

 

A – He was handsome. 

B – He was British.

C – Could be a big dick but…

D – He could be charming about it.

 

Not nearly enough information to form any sort of opinion, let alone theories or hypotheses. Selecting a plate of fragrant, buttery lobster, Jane glanced at Loki through her lashes, admiring his exquisite table manners. _He eats like a Prince_ , Jane thought, _Light years better than my last five dates, and parsecs beyond my last boyfriend._

 

To any scientist worth her salt, observation was the first step towards forming any working hypothesis. So as she ate, she examined and catalogued her newest subject. She guessed his age to be somewhere in his early thirties. He had wonderful posture. He was naturally somewhat restless- eyes scanning, one knee bouncing, or a foot tapping- but his hands didn’t fidget or fuss. His clothing was impeccable- well groomed and perfectly chosen. Either he was a connoisseur of fashion, or he had a personal assistant who knew what they were about. He had a furrow between his brows that suggested a habitual frown or scowl, but crinkles at the corners of his eyes that hinted at mischief. Also, he just smelled so. Damn. Good. 

 

She looked at his face again, she was arrested by his piercing gaze and she suddenly realized that she had been silent for a long time. Loki took a long sip of his wine, and said, “Satisfied, Jane?” 

 

She dabbed at her lips with her blindingly white napkin. “Never,” she said with a slow grin. 

 

Loki’s shark-like smile slowly grew larger. 

 

000

 

Loki insisted upon taking her back to her apartment after the date. She protested a little, saying she could call a cab, but after his look of total disbelief and disgust, she let herself be ushered to a sleek black Jaguar sports car parked outside the restaurant. Pulling her thick wrap closer to ward off the early autumn chill, she quietly directed him to her building. 

 

The drive was mostly silent, peppered with inconsequential small talk. Loki was an aggressive driver, but not to the point where Jane felt she needed to cling to the holy-shit handle. All too soon, they arrived at her building.

 

After Loki put the car in park, Jane smiled and unlatched her seatbelt, “Thank you for bringing me home.” 

 

Loki’s eyes gleamed in the dim light. “My pleasure. Are you glad you gave me a second chance?” 

 

Jane sniffed and said, “Jury’s still out.” She smiled a little to take the bite out of her words and bit her lip. _Flirting! What would Darcy think?_

 

Mental Darcy cheered Jane on as she continued, “But I think you made moves in the right direction.” 

 

Loki took once of her tiny hands in his much, much larger one and slowly brought it to his thin mobile lips. Placing a lingering kiss on her now racing pulse, he whispered, “Oh dear. Whatever can I do to change your mind?” 

 

Jane’s usually super powered brain short circuited, all of her focus traveling to that one point on her wrist where his hot breath sent trembles of feeling crashing through her. “Um, well… I, um… talk to you later?” 

 

Giving the palm of her hand one last caress with his thumb he released her, “Yes. Talk to you later. I had a wonderful evening, Jane.” 

 

Fumbling for the door handle, but never breaking eye contact with his heated gaze, she exited the car. As she watched him speed off, she whispered into the chilly night air, “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that my mystery prompter enjoyed the story! I have a second part drafted, but alas, due to time constraints I couldn’t get it to the page in time. It has been awhile since I have put pen to paper (fingers to keyboard, rather) so I always welcome constructive critique. Also, this is the first time I’ve dipped my toe into the MCU fandom (after lurking forever and a day), so please be gentle with me! Also this is unbetaed, so all mistakes are mine. Cheers!


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